How Much Does a Polar Bear Weigh?
by KJ-MonkeyJunkie3
Summary: Reid makes a bet with Morgan that the pretty girl at the bar won't even take a minute to turn him down. Now multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

So this is just a little one-shot that popped into my head. Hope you enjoy, and please please please read and review!

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><p>I bet you $20 you're gonna turn me down.<p>

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><p>Morgan leaned over and nudged Reid. "Go buy that girl a drink."<p>

Reid glanced over and snorted. The woman was sitting at the bar, sipping on a rum and Coke and swinging her foot to the beat of the song. She was petite, no more than 5'2", with wide eyes lined with thick lashes and dark, choppy layers framing her heart-shaped face. Her hair just barely brushed her shoulders, which were bare because of the strapless yellow dress that she was wearing, though there was a black leather bomber jacket hanging from the back of her chair. "Right, like she would take more than thirty seconds to shoot me down."

"Thirty seconds? Come on, I'll give you at least a minute and a half."

Reid shook his head. "You wanna put money on that? I'll bet you ten bucks that she doesn't give me more a minute."

Morgan held out a hand. "You're on. If she's into you, I win. But I give you two minutes before she sends you packing."

Reid rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Be back in a minute or less." He shook Morgan's hand and headed over to the bar. He leaned over the spot next to her and ordered a beer and a rum and Coke. When they arrived, he slid it over to her. "Here. Happy National Beheading Day."

She looked up at him. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Today is September 2nd. It's National Beheading Day." At her puzzled look, he took a step away from her. "And now I'm gonna go. Enjoy your drink."

He turned and shrugged at Morgan, who checked his watch and shook his head in dismay. He reached for his wallet, but stopped when he saw something behind Reid. There was a hand on Reid's shoulder. "Where are you going?"

Reid turned and looked down at the woman he had bought the drink for. She was at least two inches shorter than he'd thought. No more than five foot. "You-you, um, you looked scared. I figured I should leave."

She smiled. "I wasn't. Really. Although you did give up pretty easy. Did I scare you away? Should I let you go?"

"No—no. It's just, um," without realizing it, he allowed her to lead him back to the bar, "I bet my friend that you'd turn me down within a minute, and he said no, it'd take at least two."

She laughed, but then her smile grew softer. "And what if you don't get turned down?"

Reid's breathing hitched, and he coughed. "Well, technically he wins, but I think it'll still go down as a victory in my book."

Her smile grew wider. "How about you let me join you guys, you buy me another drink, and I'll give him the ten bucks?"

He struggled for an answer, and finally managed to squeak out, "That, um, that sounds okay."

She grinned and gathered up her things, then followed him over to their table. She slid into the booth and grinned at Morgan. "Hi. I'm told you just won a bet?"

Morgan nodded mutely, and she reached into her boot and pulled out a couple of bills. "Okay, well, here you go." She handed him two fives, and sipped on her drink. "So what are your names?"

Morgan motioned to Reid, who replied quickly, "Reid—Spencer—Doctor—Spencer Reid. I'm Spencer."

She grinned and held out a hand, and Reid took it, marveling at how graceful even that subtle movement was. She shook with him and took another sip of her drink. "I'm Rachel Perry. And you?" she turned to Morgan.

"Derek Morgan. Nice to meet you, Rachel."

They shook, and Rachel finished off her drink. "So what do you fellas do?"

"We work in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit," Reid replied.

She nodded. "Like in _Silence of the Lambs_? Oh, crap. I bet you guys get that a lot, huh?"

Morgan chuckled. "Not really, no. But it sounds a lot cooler if we say we get to deal with people like Hannibal Lecter all the time." She laughed, and Morgan asked, "What do you do?"

"It sounds a lot scarier if you say you deal with people like Hannibal Lecter all the time," Rachel shivered. "But anyways, I teach at Monroe High School across town. English and Drama, and then I coach volleyball and give piano lessons after school."

"Wow. Busy," Morgan observed, shooting Reid a look. Reid made a confused face, and Morgan shook his head.

"Well, it's a private school," Rachel shrugged. "Pretty small. I only teach five classes. Piano goes from three to five, and volleyball is five thirty to seven thirty, and I'm done by eight."

"Do you coach Varsity volleyball? Or JV?" Morgan asked.

"JV," Rachel replied. "I've only been there for two years, and the varsity coach has been there for… twelve years, I think?"

"Wow," Morgan nodded, shooting another glance Reid's way.

"Where are you from?" Reid asked, finally catching on to what Morgan's looks meant.

Rachel turned back to him. "I grew up in southern California. A little teeny city called Hesperia. It's basically just a rest stop in between LA and Vegas. No one over here has heard of it."

"Hesperia, California, population 90,173. Average ten inches of annual rainfall, best-known for its high population of Joshua Trees, which can only be found in that part of the country," Reid spouted.

Rachel raised her eyebrows at him. "Yeah. How do you know that?"

Morgan shook his head. "He knows everything."

Reid made a face. "I do not know everything. I just know a lot."

Rachel bit her lip. "That didn't answer my question. How do you know that?"

Reid shrugged. "It's a government report."

"And you… memorized it?" Rachel's frown deepened.

Morgan leaned over to her and whispered, "Be prepared to have your mind blown." He straightened and grinned at Reid. "Go on. Tell her what you can do."

Reid took a sip of his drink and said nonchalantly, "I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute."

Rachel leaned back and let out a low whistle. "You know much about British Literature?"

Reid's face took on a surprised expression. "My mother was a Professor of 15th Century Literature. She read to me all the time. Do you have a particular work in mind?"

"Tristan and Isolde?" Rachel asked with a grin.

Reid managed a weak smile. "It's brilliant. Why do you ask?"

Rachel tossed her head to get her hair out of her eyes. "Well, I'm talking about Tristan and Isolde next week in my Senior British Literature class, and I promised them a guest lecturer at some point during the year. Would you do the honors?"

After a few moments of stunned silence, Reid finally managed to stammer, "Y-ye-yeah. I'd love to."

A wide smile spread across Rachel's face, and she stood. "Great. That'll be perfect. I have to go, but why don't I give you my number, and you can call me to hash out the details?" She scribbled her phone number onto a napkin and handed it to him.

Reid took it, a dazed expression on his face. "I will. Thanks."

Rachel grinned. "Thank you, Doctor Spencer Reid. I'll talk to you later." She sauntered out of the bar, glancing back to flash him a quick grin, then stepped outside and disappeared as the door swung shut behind her.

Morgan reached over and punched Reid's arm. "Not bad, Pretty Boy. I gotta say, I'm impressed."

Reid shook his head with a stunned smile. "Me too."

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><p>How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice...<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is for all of you who asked for me to continue "How Much Does a Polar Bear Weigh?" I'm going to condense everything into one story... thus far, it's only 3 chapters, and I'll change that as soon as I get my computer fixed. Please, as before, read and REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Thanks!

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><p>The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.<br>-Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

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><p>"Guys! That's enough outta you. Let's talk about <em>Tristan and Isolde<em>." Rachel Perry observed the looks passed between her students and erased the Bell Work from the whiteboard. "I see those sassy faces. Now, I know you wanted a break from my yammering, and today, I'd like to give you that. So, please give what little focus you have in you to Dr. Spencer Reid."

She motioned to the back of the room, and the students all turned to watch the tall, thin man in the thick-framed glasses who was slowly walking up towards the podium that their diminutive teacher usually stood behind. At Rachel's encouraging nod, Reid took a deep breath and began. "Hi. As Miss Perry said, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm a profiler in the BAU and I have Ph.D.s in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering, as well as B.A.s in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. I work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, which is the more updated version of what Clarice Starling did in _The Silence of the Lambs_," he shot Rachel a meaningful look. She grinned.

A hand shot up in the back of the room, and Reid nodded towards it. "Yes?"

"So if you have degrees in all those things, why are you here to talk about English?"

Rachel shot the student a look. "Nick, don't be rude."

Reid held up a hand. "It's fine. My mother was a professor of 15th century literature, so I'm very familiar with the material."

Nick cocked an eyebrow. "Cool." He leaned back in his seat and muttered, "Boring…"

Rachel snapped her fingers. "Nick, how many times am I gonna have to write you up before you get it through your head that I'm not joking when I say I want you to be respectful of whoever is speaking?"

"At least one more time, Miss Perry," Nick fired back.

Rachel's face hardened, and she retorted, "That's fine." She scribbled a few words onto a Post-It Note and snapped, "Come up here." She handed him the slip of paper. "Go to the office, and I'll see you tomorrow in detention."

Nick snatched it out of her hand and stalked out the door. Rachel watched him go, then motioned for Reid to continue. The remainder of the class fell completely silent, alternately looking between their teacher and the guest lecturer. Reid cleared his throat awkwardly and began, "I thought we might start with a quick overview of the plot of the text, if anyone would like to do that."

The class remained stock-still, watching Rachel. She glanced around. "No one? Really?" When no one moved, she tiredly pointed at a girl in the second row. "Kenzie, why don't you do that?"

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><p>"There are very many different versions of the story including French, English, Nordic, Dutch, Welsh, Spanish, Czech, Italian, and Belarusian versions, and dozens of film versions, the most recent of which is the version starring James Franco and Sophia Myles, produced by Ridley and Tony Scott and directed by Kevin Reynolds."<p>

The bell rang, and Rachel held up a hand to stop her students from rushing out the door. "Let's all give Dr. Reid a hand. Your character analysis papers are due a week from today, and I'll see you all on Monday. That's all. Get outta here."

The class jumped to their feet and dispersed. Rachel fielded a few questions from various students and then kicked her shoes off, grabbed a book from the shelf behind her desk and padded over to the couch in the back of the room. "I have Junior Honors right now, and then a free period, if you'd like to hang out and discuss _The Snows of Kilimanjaro_ with us. We're starting a book of Hemingway's short stories. You won't have to say anything if you don't want."

Reid shrugged. "Sounds like fun. You wanna grab a bite during your free period?"

Rachel bit her lip. "I have to stay here… But if you wanted to grab some food and bring it back to eat it in here with me, that'd be nice."

"Alright. I'll do that."

The first Honors student entered the room and took a seat on the floor. "Who's this, Miss P?"

"This is Dr. Spencer Reid. He was a guest lecturer in the senior class, and he's gonna hang out today."

"Cool."

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><p>Reid stepped back into the classroom and held out a large Coke and a Burger King bag. "Chicken nugget combo with sweet and sour sauce and a Sundae Pie."<p>

Rachel took them with a grin. "Thanks. I'm so hungry. So thanks for coming by today. I think the kids liked you."

Reid chuckled. "I doubt that. Half the time they were looking at me like I was crazy."

Rachel made a face and perched on the edge of her desk. Reid pulled up a desk and slid into it as she replied, "Well, they're high school kids. I'm only ten years older than some of them and they still look at me like I'm crazy half the time I'm talking."

Reid shook his head. "It's not that. I just don't connect well with kids. Pets either. My team mates call it the 'Reid Effect'."

Rachel giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "That's not funny. I'm sorry." She took a sip of her drink awkwardly.

"It's fine. My friend that you met at the bar thinks it's hilarious."

Rachel pursed her lips. "Well, you have to admit, it's pretty funny. But I mean, I kind of have it too, but with specific kids. You saw how Nick was? Well his other teachers don't have to write him up nearly as much as I do. He just fights with me constantly."

Reid replied without thought, "Well, it's probably the way you dress."

Rachel frowned. "What?"

Reid looked up, startled, then, when he realized what he'd said, stammered, "Well, you, I mean, you dress different than—than the other teachers here. From what I've seen, you wear a lot of softly-colored dresses and heels and jewelry, and the other teachers are wearing things like slacks and khaki pants. You just don't look like the rest of the teachers."

Rachel swallowed the fry she'd been chewing on and asked, "Is that a bad thing? Do I need to revamp my wardrobe?"

Reid shook his head rapidly. "No. It's probably just that something about the way you look that makes Nick think that you'd be easier to fluster or anger. You seem to handle him well enough, but there isn't much you can do to make him learn that you're still tough any quicker. Just bear with him. He'll figure it out. Don't change anything ."

A slow smile spread across Rachel's face, and she said, "Thank you… I think. That's all that profiling coming in handy, huh?"

Reid shrugged. "I suppose. So what other books are you going to cover in your classes?"

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><p>Rachel slipped her shoes on and followed Reid out to the parking lot. "Thanks again for coming. I appreciate it. Maybe you can come back another time."<p>

Reid nodded. "That'd be nice." He turned to walk out to his car, but halfway into the parking lot, he stopped and turned on his heel. "Rachel?"

The young woman turned and looked at him expectantly. "What's up?"

He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Would you… like to have dinner tomorrow night?"

A wide smile spread across Rachel's face. "I'd love to. Give me a call and let me know where and when."

"I'll do that," he managed weakly, watching her as she walked back to her classroom.

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><p>With Tuesday came the agreeable prospect of seeing him again, and for a longer time than hitherto; of judging of his general manners, and by inference, of the meaning of his manners toward herself…<br>-Jane Austen, Emma


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here's Part Three of the "How Much Does a Polar Bear Weigh" series. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed! I appreciate it, and I'm having fun with this series. It's a nice break from "Fresh Meat" when I need it. Please continue to read and review; it means a lot to me. So, without further ado, here's part three.

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><p>Spencer Reid watched his date from across the restaurant. She was playing with her Coke, swishing it back and forth and poking at the ice cubes with her straw. She looked so pretty in the sleeveless, lacy red blouse and black pencil skirt she was wearing, and he couldn't help noticing how the shirt and the dim restaurant lighting emphasized the red in her short hair. His work had kept him late, and though he'd called her to let her know, he was still trying to sum up the nerve to go up to her and apologize. She'd sounded rather disappointed when he'd talked to her last, and facing that disappointment face-to-face was a daunting prospect. After a few more minutes, he took a deep breath and strode over to the table. "Hey. Sorry I'm so late," he offered, slinging his ever-present brown messenger bag over the back of the chair.<p>

Rachel looked up and smiled. "It's fine, Spencer. It's part of the territory with your job. I didn't mean to snap at you on the phone. It's just been a long day." He crossed to stand behind her and slipped his arms around her. She let out a sigh and turned her head to press a kiss into his arm. "I'm glad you're here."

He kissed the back of her head and released her. "Happy birthday," he placed a neatly wrapped gift in front of her, "Happy three months," he placed a velvet box on top of the present, "And I'm sorry I was late," he pulled a large, brightly colored bouquet of flowers from behind him and brought it around to set it on the table.

She gasped and looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Sweetie, you didn't have to do all this."

He pulled his chair closer to hers and sat down in it. "Sure I did."

She turned to face him and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "Well thank you." She pulled him closer and planted a kiss on his cheek before turning to wave the waitress over. "First things first. I'll have the dinner with the teriyaki salmon and mixed tempura, as well as another tea, and he will have…"

She turned an expectant gaze on Reid, who handed the modified sushi order form to the waitress as he ordered, "The chicken-don and a bowl of miso soup."

The waitress, Tanya, nodded and left to put in their orders. Rachel watched her go, then whirled to face Reid. "I got you something too." She retrieved a package from under her seat and handed it to him. "Happy anniversary to you too. And I promise it'll be better than your birthday present," she teased, remembering the book she'd gotten him only to go to his apartment a week later to find that he'd already had two copies of it and had been too nice to say anything about it. She sniffed and shook her head with a smile. Reid shot her a questioning look, and she motioned to the gift in his hands, and he opened it and chuckled. Rachel grinned and slung the scarf around his neck. "I noticed you don't wear a ton of red, and I know you don't have one like this. I checked."

Reid shook his head. "No, no I don't. I love it. Thanks. Are you gonna open yours?"

Rachel's grin widened, and she shrugged. "Yeah, alright." She went for the big one first and delicately slid her finger between the layers of paper, tearing off the tape. Once she had all the tape disconnected, she pulled open the wrapping paper and began to laugh. She held up the red pashmina. "Great minds think alike, I guess." She moved to wrap it around her neck and jumped when a CD case fell out of it. She picked it up. The disc was clank, and she looked up at him inquiringly.

He hastened to explain, "It's a mix CD. I know it's a little weird, but it's just that every time I listen to the radio I hear songs that make me think of you, and I just thought I'd put some of those songs in one place for you…"

She giggled. "That's so sweet. But I never really knew you were the computer-y type."

"Well… the team's technical analyst helped me with that part. But I picked out all the songs," he assured her with a sheepish expression.

She smiled and hugged him. "Thank you." He hugged her back, entranced by the way she smelled—like flowers, and vanilla, and just a hint of fabric softener. She pulled away. "Mmm. You smell like all of my favorite things wrapped up in one," she sighed. "Like coffee, and old books, and minty toothpaste."

Reid stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "Thanks. You smell pretty great, too. Now open the other one."

She reached for the velvet box and opened it, then frowned. "It's empty."

Reid furrowed his eyebrows and took the box from her. He inspected it, then held it up to the light. "I don't understand. It must have… Oh. There it is." He reached over and tugged on a silver chain around her neck.

Rachel looked down and gasped. "Hey! That wasn't there when I…" She paused and straightened. "You're good. I mean, when you said you were a magician, I thought, 'Well yeah, everyone's got some bar tricks,' but… wow. It's beautiful." Her gaze had fallen to the necklace again, and she picked up the pendant hanging from it. "It's not my birthstone."

"You don't like topaz," Reid answered nonchalantly.

She raised her eyebrows, impressed. "No, I don't. How'd you know?"

"I'm a profiler. And also, when I went with you to the mall that one time, every time we passed by a jewelry store, your eyes went straight to the jewelry with rubies in it, so I figured you probably liked those better," he explained.

She laughed. "I do. I really do. I've always been horribly jealous of people who were born in July and had ruby as their birthstone. Then they have an excuse to get it in their jewelry." Reid chuckled in response, and the waitress brought their food at that moment.

Reid noticed Rachel's gaze drifting over to the TV at the bar as they ate, and he commented, "You a Chargers fan?" Her face took on a repulsed expression, and he shook his head. "No. Patriots, then?"

She nodded. "I hate the Chargers. Probably because growing up, everyone loved them so much in SoCal. The Patriots are on the other side of the country, so I figured they were a great bet to make people mad at me," she laughed.

"I see," Reid's expression was priceless, and she burst into giggles. They finished dinner, and headed for the subway. They swiped their cards and waited for their train to arrive. "You could have driven yourself," Reid commented as Rachel, unable to find anywhere to sit, grabbed onto a pole in the middle of the car.

Rachel grinned up at him, her heels doing little to close the gap between their heights. "I barely get to see you as it is. If I'd driven, I wouldn't have gotten to spend as much time with you. It's not like you would have let me drive you home."

"Well, it's pretty out of the way," Reid shrugged.

She shot him a skeptical glance. "But you dropping me at my apartment isn't out of the way?"

He smiled. "Nope."

She giggled, and the train lurched to a start, causing Rachel to lose her balance and stumble into Reid, who put an arm around her to steady her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked up at him hopefully. He felt his heart speed up, and he tried to sum up the courage he'd been searching for for the past three months. He'd been wanting to kiss her, but the moment had rarely felt quite right, and when it did, his brain kicked into overdrive and began calculating all the probabilities of things that could go wrong, and in his mind, the chances of a mishap were high.

Rachel hadn't been in a relationship where she'd had to wait three months for a first kiss since high school, and she'd all but convinced herself that Spencer wasn't really all that interested in kissing her. She'd literally thrown herself at him just then, and he'd just caught her and helped her back up. His not wanting to kiss her was the only conclusion she could reach. She heaved a disappointed sigh and forced herself to make a list of things to do when she got home. She'd put the CD Spencer had made her in, pour herself a glass of apple juice, and then get to work correcting the senior honors papers on the first few chapters of _The Tenant of Wildfell Hall_. "Rachel? Hey. It's your stop. Come on."

She started and allowed Reid to lead her off the train and up to ground level. They walked slowly back to her apartment and up the stairs to the third floor. They stopped at her front door, and Reid bent down and placed a kiss in the middle of her forehead. "Good night, Rachel." The look of disappointment on her face was so unmistakable that Reid pulled away quickly. "Yeah… I have to go. Bye." He turned on his heel and strode quickly for the stairs.

Rachel watched him go and called half-heartedly, "Bye, Spencer." She let herself in and let out her breath in a loud, frustrated whoosh. Maybe she was going to have to make that apple juice a glass of wine. She flipped on the stereo and tossed the CD in it, then hit play. "So She Dances" by Josh Groban came on, and Rachel closed her eyes wistfully and began to dance slowly around the kitchen.

A knock at the door startled her, and she turned the song down and set her wine down on the table. She hustled to the door and a curious smile played at her lips when she saw who it was. "Hey—" Her greeting was cut short when he pulled her close and kissed her tentatively. She slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into him until he ended the kiss. She looked up at him expectantly. "Good?"

He smiled. "Great." And then he kissed her again.

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><p>Review please!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, so it's been a long time between updates, I know. Here's the thing: I wrote another story in present tense, and a lot of the books I've been reading lately have been in present tense, and now I'm having serious issues with writing in the past tense. So if the wording or anything feels wonky, I apologize. I don't know if I'll need to go through and re-write the whole story in present tense later. Just depends on how this chapter goes, I guess._

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><p>Reid took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a minute, Rachel pulled the door open with a nervous smile. "Are you sure you want me to go to this?"<p>

"Of course I want you to go. It's about time you met the rest of the team." Rachel moved aside, and Reid stepped past her into the messy apartment. "You look nice, by the way."

Rachel grinned and twirled around to show off her lacy teal dress. "Thank you. I'd better look nice. I must have tried on a dozen different outfits before you got here. I'm so nervous. God, I'm as nervous about meeting your team as I would be if I was in high school meeting your parents for the first time."

Reid chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. "Don't be nervous. They'll love you. And don't worry about meeting the team. Meeting them will be cake compared to meeting my mother."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "And will I be meeting your mother?"

"Well, someday… unless you… don't… want to…" Reid frowned.

Rachel laughed. "Of course I want to. I'm glad you want me to." She held up a finger. "Let me get my shoes." She skipped into her room and returned a moment later with a pair of strappy tan heels. She sank down onto the couch to put them on, then stood. "Let's do this."

Reid smiled and offered her an arm, which she took, and they headed out the door, stopping only briefly so that Rachel could lock the door behind them.

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><p>Reid offered Rachel an encouraging smile before knocking twice on the door. "It's open!" a voice called from inside the house, and Reid pushed the door open and allowed Rachel to step in before him.<p>

"Spencer! Good to see ya!" A man with short brown hair and soft blue eyes sauntered into the room, a beer in his hand.

"Will! Hey," Reid shook his hand, "I see you lost the beard."

"Is that all anybody notices anymore?" Will drawled, amused. He extended a hand to Rachel. "Hi. I'm Will LaMontagne."

Reid started. "Oh, um, Will, this is Rachel Perry. Rachel, this is Will. He's JJ's husband."

Rachel smiled and shook Will's hand. "Nice to meet you. It's so nice of you and JJ to let me tag along with Spencer."

"Are you kiddin'? Jen's dyin' to meet you," Will grinned. "I understand Emily and Penelope are, too. Apparently, you're quite the mystery. Jen comes home every night gripin' about how no one tells her anything these days."

"Well, it's true!" A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman was leaning against the doorframe. "Spence wouldn't tell us anything about you. Hi. I'm Jennifer. Or JJ. Whichever. You must be Rachel." At Rachel's nod, JJ continued, "I'm so glad he finally decided to bring you along. We've all been nagging him to let us meet you for… God, since Morgan showed up to work and told us all how Spence had scored some girl's number at a bar."

"They didn't believe me," Morgan strode in and offered his hand to Rachel. "Good to see you again, Rachel."

"You too, Derek," Rachel shook his hand with a small laugh.

"Well, I'd better go check on the burgers," Will headed for the back door. "You like cheese on your burgers, Rachel?"

Rachel grinned. "Only way I eat 'em."

"Interesting. I think you're the only one here besides me who likes cheese," Will raised his beer before slipping out the door.

"Ah, a kindred spirit already," Rachel giggled.

"Is she here? Move. Get out of my way. Move!" Another blonde woman pushed through JJ and Morgan. "Wow. She's pretty, Reid! And here you had me thinking she was some deformed troll!"

Rachel cocked an eyebrow and turned to look at Reid, who was frowning at the woman. "Oh? Did he tell you that?"

"No!" Reid spoke quickly.

"No, it's just that he wouldn't tell us anything about you, and I just assumed that he was ashamed of you or something, but now that I've seen you I know that can't be it. You're so pretty! I love this dress. And your hair! I love the red in it. Where did you get it done?"

"Garcia!" Reid protested.

"It's fine, Spence," Rachel laughed. "I got it done at the NYC Salon on Maple."

"Oh, I'm gonna need to go there! I usually do mine myself, but I don't like cutting my own hair—rather have someone else do that, and I still haven't found a place I really like. I'm Penelope Garcia, by the way. I'm the team's Technical Analyst. I do all the computer stuff. Do you shop? Because JJ and Emily and I are having a ladies' night next weekend—Emily's moving in a couple of weeks, so we'll be shopping, drinking, dancing, all that—and you should come!"

Rachel smiled graciously. "I do shop. But I don't want to impose on your ladies' night. I mean, we just met. How do you know I'm not a total party pooper?"

Garcia pushed her glasses, which had begun to slip down, back up. "Because. I can just tell. The choppy layers. The red highlights. The tattoo," she motioned to Rachel's wrist, "Which, can I just say, is fantastic."

Rachel turned her wrist slightly to obscure the shooting star tattoo on it. "Thanks. You know, they always say 'You'll regret this when you're older,' and I'm only 24, but I'm there already."

"Oh my God why?" Garcia gaped.

Rachel sighed. "Well, I think my motivation for getting it has something to do with it. I was a little bit of a Whovian in college—well, let's be honest. A big time Whovian. And my roommate and I decided to get the tattoos for her 21st birthday. And I wanted something that was more Doctor Who-ish, but she talked me into getting something a little less geeky, but that still hinted at the sci-fi thing. And I'm glad, because can you imagine how lame I'd look with a big blue police box tattooed on my wrist?"

Garcia laughed. Reid looked quizzically at Rachel. "You're not a Whovian anymore?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not since David Tennant left."

"That's it. It's official. You're the coolest person at this party. Come on. You're sitting by me," Garcia snatched Rachel's arm and pulled her into the backyard. "Although you should know that I am a hard-core Matt Smith fan. Just so we can get that out of the way."

JJ grinned. "She's nice. But she likes David Tennant, and he's the most attractive Doctor Who that show's ever had, and that means you have big shoes to fill..."

Reid shook his head. "I can't believe she liked David Tennant the best. Tom Baker was definitely the best Doctor, and honestly, I really prefer the past series to the current one. And also, he's just The Doctor. Not Doctor Who. It's not his name."

Morgan chuckled and clapped Reid on the shoulder. "Reid? Save it for your girlfriend. You have a British guy to beat."

"Actually, he's Scottish," Reid corrected.

Morgan made a face. "Again. Save it for your girlfriend." They headed out to the backyard, where Garcia was introducing Rachel to Hotch and Beth. Hotch shook Rachel's hand with a smile, and Beth took up a post on Rachel's other side.

Reid made his way over to Will at the grill, grabbing a lock of Rachel's hair and tugging lightly on it as he passed. She turned to smile at him, then quickly returned to her conversation with Garcia, Beth, and now JJ and Prentiss, as well.

Will grinned at Reid as he flipped the burgers over. "They seem to like her. Good job, Spencer."

Reid chuckled. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>"Reid, I swear to God, if you let this girl go, I will personally kill you. No, wait. I'll duel you to The Pain. And I know you've seen the Princess Bride, so I know you know how much that will suck," Garcia whispered as Rachel exchanged numbers with the other women as the two prepared to leave.<p>

Reid nodded. "I don't intend to, Garcia."

Rachel moved over to Reid and slipped her arm through his. "You ready?"

He grinned at her and replied, "Yep. Let's head out. Thanks for having us, JJ. Will, great burgers."

"Thanks, man. See you around," Will waved.

Garcia hugged Rachel. "Great to meet you. We'll see you next weekend for ladies' night. Be there. Be ready to party."

"You got it," Rachel smiled and waved at everyone. "Great to meet you all. Thanks so much for inviting me, JJ. Thanks for the burgers, Will. They were great. Emily, JJ, Penelope, I'll see you next Saturday."

As they got into the car, Rachel commented, "That wasn't so bad. They're great."

"I'm glad you liked them," Reid smiled, and as they pulled away from the curb, he felt her hand cover his, and he twined his fingers with hers.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, this chapter might seem a little pointless, but I just wanted to show them being together and kind of do some sort of bridge between the last chapter and the next, which will come as soon as possible. Hope you all continue to read and review!

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><p>Rachel Perry finished a chapter in her book, <em>The Rainmaker, <em>and glanced up at Spencer Reid, who was intently running his finger down his current page of _Catching Fire_. _The Hunger Games _already lay discarded at his side. It had taken him all of fifteen minutes to read it, and it had only taken him that long because turning the pages with her head resting on his arm slowed him down. It was how she had convinced him to read the books in the first place. She'd told him how much she loved them, and how even if he thought they were stupid, he would have only wasted an hour of his day reading them.

She sat up and closed her book, then watched him expectantly until he noticed that she had moved and tore his gaze away from the book to look at her quizzically. "What's up?"

"Can we walk? This bench is wicked uncomfortable and it's such a nice day," she asked, already on her feet and grabbing his hand to pull him up as well.

"You weren't even leaning on the bench. You were leaning on me," he argued, reluctantly closing the book and grabbing _The Hunger Games _just as she pulled him away from the bench.

She took the books from him and stowed them in her purse, then linked her arm through his and they headed down a little bike path adjacent to the bench they had just vacated. "My butt was on the bench though, and it was starting to complain," she grinned. "Anyways, this is a nice park. We should enjoy more of it than just that bench."

"Alright," he agreed, although he still didn't understand why she'd rather walk around aimlessly than read.

"Oh! Did I tell you I now have a roommate?" she asked, although her tone betrayed her mixed feelings about the matter.

He frowned down at her. "No. I didn't know you were looking for a roommate."

"I wasn't," she sighed. "It's one of the girls from school. She's a senior. She was on the volleyball team my first year, and she's in English and Drama with me, and she takes piano lessons from me, too."

"How'd that happen?" Reid was genuinely confused, an unusual occurrence for him.

She took a deep breath. "Well, like I said, I teach her in English and Drama and piano, so we've ended up spending a lot of time together… Anyways, she was helping me after school with some Drama stuff—painting the sets and such, and she told me that she was going through a tough time, and she felt like she needed to get out of the house as much as she could or she was gonna lose it. And I knew her mom had run off about a year ago, so I figured that was what she was talking about. So I told her that if she ever just really needed out, she could come to my place and spend the night or whatever."

"Okay… well that's not exactly a roommate," Reid's brows furrowed as he tried to piece the story together.

"I'm not done," she replied. "So a couple nights ago, while you guys were out of town, she called me and asked me to come get her, she was at a little coffee shop by her house. So I did, and took her back to my place, and suddenly it all comes out: after her mom took off, her dad started abusing her, and evidently it's gotten 'really bad' over the last couple of months. So when she finished her story, I talked her into letting me call the police. They came, got her statement, and before they left to go talk to her dad, they asked if she was staying with me. And I said yes. So now she is. Indefinitely, it looks like. Because she's going to a commuter college in the fall, and she can't afford to get a dorm. And I certainly can't afford to get her one, either."

Reid raised his eyebrows at her. "Well, it's really nice of you to take her in like that. What are your misgivings?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I'm just worried about her, I guess. I'm hardly equipped to deal with the emotional fallout from an already hormonally imbalanced teenaged girl who's been going through some really horrible things for the last year. I'm afraid I won't be able to help her as much as I should."

Reid stopped and turned to face her. "You've already helped her by getting her out of a bad situation and making sure it won't happen again. You've done well so far, Rachel. And I have no doubt that as other things come up, you'll handle them just as well."

She smiled and leaned forward to slip her arms around him. He hugged her back and pressed a kiss into the top of her head as she murmured, "Thanks. You're the greatest."

"Hardly. You wanna get something to eat?" he asked.

She straightened. "Yes. Let's do that. I'm starving."


	6. Chapter 6

Spencer Reid followed the rest of the team through the doors of the BAU. He ran a hand through his hair and headed down to his desk, barely able to keep his head up. He reached his desk and was surprised to see a person perched on top of it. He looked up. "Rachel? What are you doing here?"

She grinned. "You sounded exhausted on the phone. So I brought you coffee." She passed him a Starbucks cup and he took it gratefully.

"Thanks. But don't you have work to do? Those ten-page papers were due this week, weren't they?"

"You don't miss a trick, do you?" Rachel laughed. "I should never have let them pick their own books. I started grading them, but if I have to read one more analysis of The Hunger Games, I'll scream."

Reid smiled and sipped his coffee. "How many have there been so far?"

"Four. I've only graded a dozen papers. I really wish I hadn't assigned those journal projects. I checked the list, and it seems that the half of the school that didn't do their papers on the Hunger Games is doing their journal projects on it, and those are due at the end of the month." Rachel rolled her head around slowly. "I hate May. It never ends."

"I thought you liked the Hunger Games," Reid comments, "You made me read it. And Catching Fire, and Mockingjay."

She rolled her eyes. "I do like it, but having to read teenagers' analyses of it when they clearly haven't put any thought into it beyond how hot they think Jennifer Lawrence and Josh Hutcherson are? It's irritating." She ran a hand through her hair, and Reid chuckled.

"You can't make everyone love literature as much as you do," he counsels, "But do you want some help grading?" Reid asked. "We can go out and grade papers over a pizza." He slid his hands down her arms and took hold of her hands.

Rachel laced her fingers in his and smiled wistfully. "That sounds great, but I'm sure you have papers to fill out as well," she motioned to the stack of files on his desk.

"You're pretty sharp yourself," Reid frowned. "What if we get pizza and I work on my papers and you work on yours?"

Rachel hopped off the desk. "That sounds great."

Reid allowed her to pull him out of the bullpen and towards the doors, but as they reached the stairs, JJ stepped in front of them, blocking the stairwell. "Sorry, guys, I know you had plans, but I just got a call. It's urgent. I talked to Hotch, he wants us to ship out right away."

"But we just got back," Reid protested. Rachel moved back to stand beside him, squeezing his hand with hers.

JJ shrugged. "I know, but this one's bad. Hey, Rachel. I'm really sorry to steal him like this, but we really do need him."

Rachel smiled. "Of course. Work comes first." She glanced up at Reid and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw—the highest point she could reach when she wasn't wearing heels. "We'll do pizza another night. Get some rest on the plane and call me if you need a break."

He slipped an arm around her and gave her a hug before he leaned down for a quick kiss. "Sorry. Good luck grading. I'll call you later, alright?"

She nodded. "Alright. I lov—" she caught herself at the last moment, "…I'll… see you when you get back." She hesitated awkwardly for a moment, then headed for the door with a last grin back at him and a wave.

JJ watched her go, then turned to shrug at Reid. "Sorry about that. You'd better make some special plans for when you get back. Until then, everyone's in the briefing room. I saved you for last so you'd have some time to talk."

"Well, thanks for that," Reid nodded and followed JJ out of the bullpen and into the briefing room.

"And don't count on getting any sleep on the plane—it's a local case. Will actually called it in," JJ explained to him as they entered the room. "I'm sorry to do this, guys, but I can personally guarantee you that Will wouldn't ask for our help unless MPD wasn't already in way over their heads. I've looked at the file, and it can't wait."

* * *

><p>"I made reservations for Friday night," a yawn worked its way out of Reid's mouth as he nodded, "Yeah. No, I'm pretty sure we'll be done by then. We have a good suspect now. Right. Of course. Hey, I have to go. Okay. Alright. You, too. Bye." He hung up and slipped the phone into her pocket.<p>

"Hey, Spencer. You think you can keep your eyes open long enough to go with me to check out this Rawlings fella?" Will LaMontagne dropped a heavy file onto the desk where Reid was sitting and watched him expectantly. "I know you guys are all exhausted, but everyone else is already doin' somethin' else, and I wanna check this guy out so we can either rule him out or get him off the streets."

Reid nodded and followed Will out to the squad car with another yawn. Their ride was a silent one, but as they pulled up to Carson Rawlings' house, Will turned to Reid. "We don't have anything concrete on this guy besides you guys' profile, so I might need your help to get him talking, alright?"

Reid nodded again and the two headed up to the door of the suburban house. "If he is the UnSub, he's obviously not keeping the victims here. This neighborhood wouldn't be conducive to his keeping the victims here for as long as he does—there would almost certainly have been reports of a disturbance, maybe screaming or reports of a struggle coming from the house."

Will's knuckles rapped against the door. "Carson Rawlings?"

The door cracked open, and a face peeked out. "Yes?"

"My name is Detective William LaMontagne, Jr. I'm with the MPD. This is Doctor Spencer Reid with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Uh, sure. Come in, I guess. What's this about?" The man opened the door wider to allow them to step inside, then closed it behind them, the rings on his fingers glinting in the dim lighting of the house.

Before either of them could respond, however, and before they could process what had happened, he'd grabbed a baseball bat from behind the door and clubbed both Will and Reid from behind.

Will's eyes fluttered open, and he reached back with a groan to feel the back of his head, which was sticky with blood. "Oh, thank God," JJ helped him sit up and gently pressed an ice pack to the back of his head. "What happened?"

"Um…" Will's eyes flickered closed again, and he eventually managed, "We got in the house, and then the guy clobbered us. I dunno what happened after that."

JJ turned to Hotch, who was standing a little ways behind them. "Reid was with him when they got into the house. He's not here?"

Hotch shook his head. "No one's found him. We checked upstairs, outside, everywhere. Unless there's a hidden basement somewhere around here, Reid's not here."

Will's head dropped. "Oh, man. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought him. Rawlings could have done this to me tomorrow."

"You couldn't have known he'd do this," Hotch disagreed, "All you expected was a routine interview with a potential suspect."

"Well, we're supposed to be prepared for anything," Will shook his head, "I was pretty sure Rawlings was our guy, and I still wasn't ready for him to pull this on us. And Spencer… Of all people. That poor kid."

The paramedics appeared and helped Will onto a gurney, despite his protests, and JJ held his hand and followed him to the ambulance. "Don't worry about Spence. There's not enough blood for him to be dead, and I imagine Rawlings is keeping him for leverage. He's stronger than you'd think. He'll tough it out. And we're gonna find him. You bet your ass we'll find him."


	7. Chapter 7

Here's Part 7 - just a bit of a break from working on my next fic, which I'll tell y'all more about later... Thank you all so much for reading and please please review!

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><p>Reid came to slowly and gingerly reached up to rub at the back of his head where he had been struck. He met resistance halfway up and realized that he was handcuffed to the chair he was sitting in. He frowned, still confused, and tugged on the handcuffs.<p>

"It won't work," a voice startled him, and he looked around, alarmed.

The fog began to clear in his mind, and he squinted. "Rawlings?"

"That's right, Doctor… Reid, was it?" Rawlings chuckled as he emerged menacingly from the shadows. Reid couldn't help thinking how very cheesy and 'film noir' it was. Rawlings moved over to a tripod about a yard away from Reid and adjusted the camera on top of it. "Look at the camera, doc. Now go ahead and say your name, will you? Make sure your colleagues know it's you."

"Why?" Reid asked, glancing around to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be inside somewhere, although he couldn't tell whether he was above ground or below it. The walls were cement, and most of the cement floor was obscured by a layer of dirt. There were no windows, and the only visible doorways had tattered tarps hanging limply from their frames.

Rawlings crossed to Reid in two long strides and backhanded him across the face, the rings on his fingers opening a gash in his cheek. "Because I said so, Dick."

Reid shook his head. "I'm not a detective. I'm a federal agent. Which means the consequences are gonna be a lot more severe for you when my team finds us."

"Well ain't that nice? Say your name, and I won't hit you again," Rawlings snarled.

"What's this video for?"

Reid barely had time to finish his sentence before he was dazed as Rawlings' hand once again descended forcefully on his face. "Don't ask questions. Just say your name."

Momentarily beat, Reid looked into the camera and said, "Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Well done, Doc. That wasn't so complicated, was it?" Rawlings ignored Reid's murderous glare and continued, "Now I want you to tell your team that to forget who I am and drop this case."

Reid shook his head. "No."

Rawlings sighed. "Alright, Doc. You have a someone you wanna get a message to? A wife or a girlfriend?"

"None of your business, Rawlings," Reid bit out defensively.

"I see. Well, lemme put it to you this way, Dr. Reid. If you don't tell your team to let me go, you're gonna want your girl to know why it is that you're dead instead of with her. So either leave a message for someone or say what I tell you to say."

"You won't kill me. If I'm dead, you won't have anything to bargain with," Reid retorted.

Rawlings took a step forward and growled menacingly, "Maybe I won't need to." Suddenly, he lashed out with his fist and before Reid knew what was happening, everything went black.

* * *

><p>"Detective LaMontagne?" The delivery man held a clipboard out to Will, who nodded. "Delivery for you."<p>

Will signed the clipboard and accepted the package from the man. He tore it open and frowned at the CD case that was inside. "What's that?" JJ wanted to know.

Will shrugged. "No telling." He carried it over to his desk and placed it in the disc drive of his computer.

A video popped up, and JJ gasped softly. "Reid." She straightened and called, "Hotch! You need to see this!" She pulled out her phone and called Garcia. "Garcia? You need to tap into Will's computer and see what you can find out about the video playing on it right now."

Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi gathered around the computer in time to hear Reid say, "You won't kill me. If I'm dead, you won't have anything to bargain with."

"Maybe I won't need to," Rawlings growled, then knocked Reid out with a single blow. He then proceeded to shove a cloth bag of some sort over Reid's head. Next, he pushed Reid's chair back, and JJ flinched as the chair hit the ground forcefully. Will brushed his hand against hers comfortingly. Rawlings dragged a hose into the view of the camera, dropped it, and disappeared for a moment to turn the water on full-blast. Finally, he roughly shook the doctor awake. Reid struggled for a moment, caught off-guard when he found himself on the ground, then stopped abruptly as Rawlings kicked him in the side and barked, "Stop squirming." He placed a towel over Reid's already covered face, picked up the hose and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to tell your team anything, Doc?"

"No," Reid replied, shaking his head.

Rawlings shrugged, although Reid couldn't see it, and muttered, "Alright. Have it your way." He tugged on the hose to lengthen it a bit, then held it above Reid's head and allowed the water to splash onto the younger man's face.

Garcia gasped. "Oh my God."

Reid choked and sputtered as the water sprayed onto his face, and after about fifteen seconds, Rawlings dropped the hose. As Reid gasped for air, Rawlings asked, "You have anything you wanna say, Mister Big-Shot FBI Agent?"

Reid shook his head, and Rawlings turned the hose on him again. Garcia let slip a horrified choking sound and turned away from the screen in front of her. JJ's fingers found Will's and grabbed onto them desperately. Will squeezed her hand as Morgan turned away, disgusted, and Rossi's hand clenched into a fist in front of his mouth. Only Hotch didn't move as the waterboarding continued for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, Rawlings stomped out of the frame to turn the water off, then yanked the bag off Reid's head and pulled his chair back upright. "That's all for today. I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Reid."

Here, the video ended, and the team stood in sickened silence for a moment before Hotch straightened. "Morgan and Garcia. Watch it again and see if there's anything about it that will help us find Reid. JJ, Rossi, and Will. The four of us will go to Rawlings' house and go over every inch of it. Morgan, join us when you're done with the video. No one's getting any rest until we find Reid."

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><p>Thanks again to y'all for reading! So here's the thing: I've started working on a Harry Potter fic, which is basically just me writing an original character into the books - thing is, it's gonna be long. Like, really long. So here's what I'd like to hear from you: Would you like me to post a new story for each book - as in, each year of school and then everything post-Hogwarts will be posted as a separate story, or would you rather I just put it all into one big, long story and just have it be really long? I'd post a poll, but I'm having technical difficulties, so please just message me or leave a review on one of my stories to let me know what you'd prefer! Thanks - y'all are the best! =)<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Greetings, all! I realize I haven't updated anything in ages, or started anything new, either. But here's my excuse, and I know a good portion of you will understand: I watched Sherlock. And now, basically my life is ruined. So I do apologize for that. But here's a new chapter for this story - more to follow... at some point. Thank you all for reading and favoriting and reviewing - please, please continue to do so. I really appreciate any and all feedback. Hope you all enjoy! =)

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><p>Rachel checked the time again as she waved off the waiter for what felt like the hundredth time of the night and scowled. Spencer was forty-five minutes late and she was starving. He'd usually never be this late and not at least call to let her know. When the waiter returned ten minutes later, she heaved a sigh and ordered her dinner. If he wasn't going to do her the courtesy of calling her to let her know what was going on, she wasn't going to wait to eat.<p>

She hadn't heard from him since he'd called to let her know that he'd made reservations for their dinner tonight. She hadn't worried, though, because he'd sounded so busy when they'd talked, and they'd gone longer than two days without talking before—although admittedly not recently. When her food arrived, however, she pulled out her phone and dialed JJ's number. "JJ? Hey, I'm really sorry to disturb you, but I don't suppose you know where Spencer is? He was supposed to meet me for dinner more than an hour ago, and I haven't heard from him since Wednesday night."

"You haven't—No, I don't know." JJ sounded exhausted, and also… flustered? That wasn't like her.

Rachel pursed her lips. "Oh. Well he's not answering his phone either. You really have no idea? It's not like him to be this late and not call me."

"I wish I could help you, Rachel, but I honestly don't know where he is. I wish I did. You have no idea how much."

Rachel frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? Is he lost?"

"Nothing. It's not supposed to mean anything. Look, I have to go. We're really busy with this case and I can't really talk right now. I'm really sorry, Rachel. Really."

JJ hung up, and Rachel looked quizzically at her phone. They were still working on the case and didn't know where Reid was? That made no sense. JJ had to be keeping something from her—although that didn't sound right, either. Well, she'd just try another way. She dialed another number and held the phone up to her ear. "Penelope. Hey, it's Rachel. You got a minute?"

"If it's a really fast minute. I'm kind of swamped right now. But what's up?"

"Do you know where Spencer is? I've been trying to get ahold of him and he's not answering his phone."

A pause, then, "Well, this case is keeping us really busy. He probably can't get to his phone right now."

"But he was supposed to meet me for dinner and if he was running late or couldn't make it he would have called. Do you think you could at least let him know that I'm trying to reach him?"

"I'm not with him right now, but why don't you try JJ?"

Rachel sighed. "I already did. She said she didn't know where he was."

Another pause. "No, I don't know where he is. I have to go, okay?" Garcia hung up abruptly, and Rachel was left futilely repeating Garcia's name into the phone.

She sighed, frustrated, and shoved her phone back into her purse. Something was definitely wrong. She stood suddenly, pulled a few bills from her wallet and dropped them onto the table, and hurried out of the restaurant to the parking lot. She climbed into her Ford F-150 and twenty minutes later pulled up to the police station. She marched towards the door but was stopped when she heard her name called. She turned to see Hotch walking towards her, and hustled over to meet him. "Rachel. What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Aaron. You know where Spencer is?"

Hotch shook his head. "No, why?"

She took a deep breath and replied sharply, "I haven't heard from him in two days and he stood me up at dinner tonight without so much as a call. JJ and Penelope won't tell me where he is, and now you're trying to tell me you don't know where he is? You're his boss! What the hell aren't you telling me?"

After only a moment's hesitation, Hotch nodded tersely. "You're right. Come with me." Rachel followed him, practically having to run to keep up with his long strides. As they walked, Hotch began to fill her in. "We were looking into a man named Carson Rawlings as a potential suspect for a serial murder case we were working on. Wednesday afternoon, Reid and Will went to interview him, and from what Will's told us, they'd barely made it in the door when Rawlings knocked them both out."

They pushed through the precinct doors and made their way towards the room that had been set aside for the BAU. "When Will came to, Rawlings and Reid were gone. Thursday morning, Will received a delivery. That disc," Hotch pointed to the disc in its case that had been bagged and tacked onto the evidence board, "Which showed Rawlings demanding that Reid tell us to drop the case in return for his location. When Reid refused, Rawlings tortured him. This morning, we received another disc." he pointed to a second disc, which sat innocently on the table, surrounded by stacks of papers—some printouts about Carson Rawlings, some from Rawlings' house. Hotch continued, "This one is along the same lines as the first one."

Rachel crossed her arms tightly. "You don't have any idea where he is?"

Morgan and JJ joined them without saying anything as Hotch replied, "Initially, all we knew from the videos was that he was somewhere close—he has to be familiar with the site where he's keeping Reid and the surrounding area, and he couldn't have gotten far if he had time to make the video and have it delivered to us first thing the morning after he took Reid—and that Reid's alive. We've learned more since then, but what you need to focus on is that Reid's alive. He's alive, and as long as Rawlings sees Reid as a bargaining chip, he'll keep him alive. You can stay here at the station if you want, or you can go home and we'll call you as soon as we know anything. It's up to you."

She stood silently for a long time before she asked quietly, "Why didn't anyone tell me? He's had him for two and a half days and no one thought to tell me that he was missing?"

JJ put a hand on her shoulder and Rachel glanced up at her, startled by her presence. "We didn't want you to worry, and we were hoping to get him back in time for you dinner date. I'm sorry we couldn't."

Rachel shrugged out from under JJ's hand and sank down into the chair that Morgan pulled out for her. "I'm not going anywhere until you find him."

Hotch nodded. "That's fine."

JJ pulled Hotch aside and spoke quietly with him for a minute before Hotch nodded. JJ moved over to crouch beside Rachel. "Hey, what if you went back to the BAU and waited there with Garcia? That way you'd still hear everything as it came in, but you'd be a little more comfortable."

"And out of the way, right?" Rachel remarked wryly. "As long as I won't be in Penelope's way, then I guess that's fine."

JJ nodded. "Great. I'll drop you off right now."

Half an hour later, JJ knocked on Garcia's door and guided Rachel inside the office and into Garcia's extra office chair. "You gonna be okay, Rachel?" Rachel nodded silently, and JJ sighed. "Okay. I promise, as soon as we find anything out, you'll be the first to know." Rachel nodded again, and JJ exchanged a look with Garcia before she headed out the door.

Garcia moved over to Rachel, slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. "We'll find him, Rach. You know we will."

Rachel didn't respond, and Garcia returned to her screens for a while before she heard the other woman ask softly, "Did you see the videos?"

Garcia stopped what she's doing for a long moment before she responded simply, "Yeah. I saw," and goes back to typing madly.

There was another long pause, but then Rachel wanted to know, "What did he do to him?"

Garcia swiveled around in her chair, a look of profound sadness on her face. "Oh, you don't want to know, Peaches."

"Yes, I do. I'm a big girl, Penelope. Just tell me." Her voice was deathly quiet, and for a moment, Garcia wondered idly if she should offer her some water.

After a long while, Garcia heaved a sigh. "Fine. The first day, he… he—do you know what waterboarding is?" Rachel paled, but nodded without saying anything. "That's what he did."

"…And yesterday? What did he do yesterday?"

Garcia shook her head vehemently. "What, are you a glutton for punishment? It was horrible, okay? Don't make me go over it again," she snapped, her already-frayed nerves giving in under Rachel's inquisitiveness.

Rachel's voice sounded very small when she spoke next. "It's not for me. I just… I need to know… what he's going through. Please."

Garcia slumped in her seat, defeated. "He… He… burned him. He had a metal… stick… that he put in the fire… And he burned him."

Rachel's eyes flickered shut briefly, and she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them against herself protectively. "You have to find him."

Garcia almost didn't hear the words, they were said so softly. She reached over and took Rachel's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "We will."


End file.
